


get a load of this monster, he doesn't know how to communicate (his mind is in a different place, will everybody please give him a little bit of space?)

by mattiebluebird (ScarlettBond)



Category: Jumper (2008)
Genre: song!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23749300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettBond/pseuds/mattiebluebird
Summary: Hate is a weapon, and it's one Griffin wields well.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	get a load of this monster, he doesn't know how to communicate (his mind is in a different place, will everybody please give him a little bit of space?)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "This is Home" by Cavetown. My friend suggested I write a fic based off the song and this is what I came up with.

_(Get a load of this monster, he doesn't know how to communicate.)_

The bat connects with a wet _thud_. The Paladin is dead, or at least unconscious. It doesn't stop him. His vision is blurry and tinted red by fury or fear or tears or sweat or a mixture of the four.

He _doesn't_ or _can't_ or _won't_ stop, no matter which; everything is him and the bat and the Paladin and the twinge of pain in his side that reminds him how close he'd been to death.

In the beginning these beatings were fueled by fear, then by hatred and anger, but there's something about hate - _true_ hate, the kind that's in your veins and your soul and every breath and step and jump you take, the kind that burns long-lasting- that cannot surface as anger forever. Instead it cools, sharpens into something you can wield like a blade at a moment's notice.

Hate is a weapon, and it's one Griffin wields well.

This is not to say he's not angry, because he _is_ , all the time, at everything. But in these moments, the anger usually simmers low and the cool-calm-sharp hate takes over.

This time, though. _This time_. The fury boils over, not cooled by the hatred but fueled by it, burning off of it like oxygen to fire, and it's in every swing he takes. There's something beneath it too, something that's painful, something-

He realizes he's sobbing just as he recognizes the emotion, and suddenly his haze makes sense. Anger makes the killings bearable, hatred makes them enjoyable, but grief?

That makes them _easy_.

He gets up, choking back sobs, and kicks the Paladin in the ribs as hard as he can. If he were more clear-headed he'd drop the body in a shark pit or maybe an active volcano, but he can feel himself unraveling, about to drown in memories so he just. Jumps away.

To the Lair, where he sinks to the ground.

He lets himself drown.

_(His mind is in a different place, will everybody please give him a little bit of space?)_

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment; I feed off them.


End file.
